


Superstitions

by haganenoheichou



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Platonic Vikturi, Viktor is a terrible travel partner, sharing a single bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenoheichou/pseuds/haganenoheichou
Summary: Viktor is a nightmare to travel with. Yuuri is somehow comfortable.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [housewife-daily](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=housewife-daily).



> Written for my YOI Secret Santa who requested platonic Vikturi! It was so hard to write, so I hope I pulled it off without slipping too much of my yaoi goggles on!

Traveling with Viktor was a nightmare. Even though he was supposed to know what ratty hotel options and economy class were like – after all, he hadn’t been a Versace-wearing, Chanel-lip-balm-carrying spoiled prince since birth. From what Yuuri knew, Viktor had very humble roots. He hadn’t even been born in Petersburg, rather, in a not-so-famous industrial city called Yekaterinburg. From what Viktor had told him, it hadn’t been much. 

So what was the deal with all those… business lounges and excessive Duty Free shopping? In the end, Yuuri had been forced to check his backpack as luggage because nothing would fit in the overhead bin, with Viktor’s seemingly endless shopping bags taking up a huge amount of space.

Then came the food part. God, Yuuri wanted to upturn his tray onto Viktor’s head by the time they got to the middle of their first meal. The pasta _was_ horribly bland, true, but it was good enough for plane food. The sponge cake actually had flavor, in Yuuri’s opinion – but Viktor had flat-out refused to eat from the plastic tray before he vigorously sanitized every single millimeter of it with some pungent alcohol-based hand sanitizer, and then proceeded to complain about the lack of balance in the meal.

“Just eat it, okay?” Yuuri sighed, munching on Viktor’s cake – the man had pushed it onto his tray the moment he’d seen it.

Viktor sighed a long-suffering heave only a tortured artist like himself could muster and mumbled something about Yuuri not loving him.

Sleep was another thing completely – Viktor had struggled with lifting the armrests up, so he ended up slithering under to place his head in Yuuri’s lap. Then he complained that Yuuri’s seatbelt was digging into the back of his head, so the younger man was forced to relinquish aerial safety in favor of his coach’s comfort.

In the morning, Viktor had proceeded to belittle the airplane coffee (that, Yuuri had to admit, he was inclined to agree with). Then the tea. Then even the bottled water.

Viktor was a damned cranky traveler and they weren’t even flying Aeroflot.

Yuuri couldn’t wait until Sheremetyevo.

The taxi they had asked Yakov to order for them was stuck in traffic when they showed up – and one of Viktor’s suitcases had been lost along the way somehow. The worst part was that Viktor couldn’t remember which one of the many suitcases he owned it was, so the lost and found process took three times as long as it normally would have.

They were forced to pay four times over for a ride from the airport – only to find out upon arrival in the city of Moscow that the driver had no idea where the hotel was.

Yuuri grit his teeth even as Viktor seethed, cursing under his breath in angry Russian. He had to admit that when the anger was justified, Viktor’s emotionality was kind of… cute.

Upon arrival at the hotel, Yuuri was so angry at the world and resentful of Viktor and his three thousand shopping bags minus one suitcase, that he ended up collapsing into bed only to shoot up like a rocket.

One of the springs in his mattress had popped out, stabbing him in the back. A horrified Viktor proceeded to horrify Yuuri with tales of tetanus and possible death (all the while arguing on the phone with reception who kept claiming they had no more mattresses to spare). Finally, the two of them were resigned to their fate, and Yuuri had migrated to Viktor’s bed. It was not even Queen-sized, so they ended up spooning with Yuuri somehow ending up as the bigger spoon.

“I can’t believe they lost my bag. And the taxi driver’s incompetence. And this mattress and… do you think it’s a sign?” Viktor said in a whisper, even though there was nobody else in the room that they could possibly disturb.

“A sign?” Yuuri asked, his words a bit slurred because of his fatigue.

“Yeah, maybe someone gave us the evil eye or something,” Viktor replied, hushed. Yuuri snorted.

“I never would have thought you to be superstitious.”

“I am an athlete. Of course I’m superstitious. Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes at the pout in Viktor’s voice. The man clearly didn’t like admitting his ordinariness, especially to his faithful fan and student.

“A bit, I guess. I used to pray before every competition,” Yuuri replied. “But then I stopped.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Because I ended up praying more to you than to the gods.”

Viktor shifted a little, and in the semi-darkness of the room, Yuuri could see his smile.

“You prayed to me?”

“Well… _at_ you, really. I wanted you to not be so far. Wanted to share the ice with you someday,” Yuuri mumbled, embarrassed. “But you just drifted farther away, with your amazing programs and your quads and… well, _you._ ”

“And now? Do you pray now?”

Silence passed between them.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Viktor said finally. “It’s a personal thing, I understand.”

“No, I… I do. Sometimes. But… it’s more like making a wish and trying to set myself up to make it come true,” Yuuri replied hurriedly. “Motivation. Not really prayer. Just a mantra in my head.”

“What kind of mantra?” Viktor asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Make Viktor proud.”

There was another moment of silence.

“Is that really why you skate?” Viktor asked quietly. “To make me proud?”

“Well, _no_ , obviously, I skate because I like it. Because I still want to win, even if you’re not waiting for me to compete with in the finals. But I think I skate my best when I want to make you proud. Because you’re… yeah. I want you to be proud of me.”

“Is that why you’re so anxious about losing?”

The question brought Yuuri up short.

“I guess. I mean, I don’t want the entire world to think that I’m so inept that I’m dragging you down even as your student,” Yuuri said, his voice shaking slightly.

“And what if I don’t care what the world says about me?” Viktor asked. Yuuri rolled his eyes, giving him a small shove.

“Of course you care. You’re as vain as JJ. Maybe even worse.”

“You wound me.”

“I’m not the one who has three absolutely identical coats in different colors. Expensive coats.”

Viktor laughed, causing Yuuri to laugh as well. The comfortable moment extended between them and soon, they shifted closer towards each other on the tiny bed.

“Hey, Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“You know, you’re in bed with me.”

“Yeah?”

“And you just teased me.”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just remembered how scared you were to even be in the same room with me back at Hasetsu.”

“Huh. That’s true.”

They fell asleep shortly after, with Viktor’s head on Yuuri’s chest. In this cramped hotel room bed, under a single blanket, this was the most comfortable place on earth.


End file.
